


Limbo

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-I Want to Believe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7470249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written by request for a Post-IWtB fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Limbo

Scully drove away from Mulder without looking back. She had let him kiss her, which was a stupid thing to do. It had confused her and probably given Mulder a sense of false hope. A huge part of her wanted to turn the car around and resign herself into seclusion with him, but the tendril of fear that had wormed its way into her brain over the last week wouldn’t let her go.

 

The morning sun shone directly into her face as she rounded the curve that would take her from the dirt road she’d been traveling and onto the main highway. She raised a hand above her eyes and flipped the visor down to ease the glare. Without warning, she was overcome with emotion. Putting the car in park, she bent her neck and rested her head on the steering wheel, letting out a sob that might have been hiding in her gut for months.

 

The flood of tears that came and went left Scully feeling lightheaded. Her nose was blocked and her eyes itched. She searched the glove compartment for a tissue or napkin, but came up empty handed. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat and fished out a handkerchief that was folded neatly into a square. Scully touched the material reverently with the gloved tips of her fingers, recalling the day, earlier that fall, when she’d gone out for a walk with Mulder along the woods behind the house and out to the small lake at the edge of the property.

 

_“Since when do you carry a handkerchief, Mulder?” Scully asked, taking the scrap of material offered in his hand._

_“Since my lady would rather suffer uncontrollable sneezing than take her ragweed allergy medication.”_

_“Your lady?”_

_“Yep.”_

_“Yeah, well, you’ll thank me when I don’t fall asleep before we even reach the lake and then you have to suffer carrying me home.”_

_“That’s where you’re wrong, Scully,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “It’s always a pleasure having you in my arms.”_

 

Scully sucked in a breath as her nose began to sting again. She quickly unfolded the handkerchief and used it to dab at her eyes and blow her nose before stuffing it back in her pocket. She took a few cleansing breaths and put the car back into gear before gripping the steering wheel tightly. She needed to focus on the surgery today and nothing else. It took her another few moments before she pulled out onto the highway and towards the rising sun.

 

******

 

Two things Scully noticed immediately as she trudged through the door were, number one, Mozart was playing softly from the CD player and number two, the potent smell of garlic permeated the air. It was all she could do not to turn around and get back in her car. Had Mulder not appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, she may have taken the cowards way out and done just that.

 

“You’re home,” he said, smiling at her.

 

She averted her eyes and turned from him to hang up her coat and take off her boots. She stared at the pegs holding their coats for longer than necessary until she felt him moving towards her. He held out a glass of red wine to her while taking a sip from his own. She took it silently, holding it without bringing it to her lips. He cocked his head and placed a warm hand on the back of her shoulder.

 

“Did it not go well?” he asked.

 

“Too early to tell.”

 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He brushed his hand down her back and gave her hip a squeeze. “Go ahead and get washed up. I made lasagna.”

 

She couldn’t help but lift her brow slightly at the thought of him cooking something so intricate. Try as he may, he just wasn’t that great in the kitchen. He laughed lightly, eyes sparkling.

 

“Well, I heated lasagna,” he said. “But I did make the garlic bread.”

 

“My nose can tell.”

 

He gave her a slight push towards the bedroom as he went the opposite way to the kitchen. She went slowly, holding on to the wine glass she had yet to take a sip from. She’d already had a long drive out and she had a long drive ahead of her. The last thing she needed to do was start drinking. Passing by the nightstand, she set her glass on the pile of books she had built up with the intent to read one day, but hadn’t gotten around to. She would wash her face and hands and change into something more comfortable and then she could have the talk with him that she’d been rehearsing in her head since she left the hospital.

 

Scully stopped dead in her tracks when she opened the door to the bathroom. Steam swirled towards her and she shivered from the change in temperature. She smelled her favorite peach bath oil. A single candle flickered on the ledge of the window above the bathtub. Anxiety flooded her chest with heat and made her hands shake. Quickly, she lifted the drain stop in the tub and blew out the candle, hurrying out of the bathroom and pulling the door shut behind her. She leaned against the door, swallowing heavily.

 

Wearily, she made her way to the kitchen, turning off the CD player as she went. She loved Mozart, but Mulder mostly hated classical. He only played it for her when he was trying to butter her up for some reason or when he was groveling in apology after a spat. The effort didn’t go unnoticed – the music, the bath, the wine, the food – but she couldn’t accept these things, not with what she had to tell him.

 

She crept into the kitchen, keeping close to the doorway. Mulder was seated at the small table against the wall, across from the stove, hunched over, his head in his hands. She took a deep breath, opening her mouth to speak, but he looked up at her in that moment and the anguished look on his face almost tore her apart. She didn’t have to say anything, he already knew.

 

“Please don’t do this,” he said. “I helped them because you asked me to.”

 

“This isn’t about the FBI,” she answered.

 

“Then what is it? What’s changed so suddenly?”

 

“That’s the thing of it, Mulder. I don’t believe it is so sudden.”

 

“I need to know what it is. I need to know why.”

 

She paused, eyes drifting to the oven timer that was counting down the seconds. “Are we happy?” she asked.

 

“Happy?” Mulder blinked in surprise.

 

“Are we?”

 

“If that’s a serious question, then the only response I can give you is that I had no idea we were unhappy.”

 

“Maybe we should both give it some thought.”

 

“Then, yes.”

 

“Yes, what?”

 

“Yes, we’re happy.”

 

“I just don’t know if that’s true.”

 

Mulder stared at her, his eyes moving over her face. She lowered her lashes in defense and licked her upper lip. The carefully worded speech she had in mind went unspoken in the heavy silence. She guessed it didn’t really matter in the long run, since ‘we need time apart’ was never going to be an easy discussion.

 

The oven timer dinged and Scully jumped. Mulder pushed himself up from the table and opened the door. He grabbed two oven mitts, pulled out the tray of lasagna and angrily dropped it on the counter. The oven door was slammed shut a moment later and he pulled the mitts off his hands before flicking the knob off. It was so quiet in the aftermath, she could hear the cheese bubbling on the lasagna.

 

“What do you want me to do?” he finally asked, hunched over the counter with his head down and his back bent.

 

“I don’t want you to do anything,” she answered.

 

He turned and crossed his arms over his chest. “How long is this pause for reflection that we’re taking going to last, Scully? A week? Two weeks?”

 

She shook her head and shrugged.

 

“A month?” he continued. “A year? Forever?”

 

“I don’t know,” she answered. “I just need some time.”

 

“Well, let me know when you have it all figured out.” He uncrossed his arms and took a wide step around her to exit the kitchen. A few moments later she heard the slam of his office door and she winced.

 

She knew this was going to be hard for the both of them, but she felt, deep down, that she was doing the right thing. It would be the easiest thing in the world for her to go to him right now, take him in her arms and tell him to forget what she’d said. She knew he’d do it too, just to keep her with him, but what she needed was to take a step back and evaluate her life – their life.

 

Before she left, toting a duffel bag with some essentials she packed after their argument in the kitchen, she paused by the door to his office. She considered leaving him a note, just a reminder that she loved him, but she feared it might do more harm than good and wondered if he’d even believe her. She did love him. She loved him very much. That was the crux of the issue.

 

Quietly, Scully left the house and drove away for the second time that day. This time, when she reached the highway, she didn’t stop.

 

*****

 

“Dr. Scully, please report to the lobby.”

 

Scully looked up from the chart she was writing on at the sound of her name on the overhead speaker. Her brow furrowed and she clicked off her pen, tucking the chart under her arm. She rushed down the main staircase to the front hall of the hospital, but paused on the landing when she saw Mulder hovering near the reception desk, shifting nervously on his feet and tapping an envelope against his palm. She slowed her descent and stopped altogether when he turned and caught her eye.

 

She nervously bit her bottom lip, afraid to take the last steps towards him. It had been ten days since she’d left and they hadn’t seen each other or spoken since. Every day, she had picked up the phone to call him, and every day she talked herself out of it and put the phone back down. Surprisingly, he hadn’t tried to contact her either, until now.

 

She hated to admit it, but he looked good. She’d half expected to find a bedraggled mess the next time they saw each other, but it wasn’t so. She could tell he’d had a haircut recently and was freshly shaved. He had on dark jeans and a hunter green sweater, the one that she always loved for bringing out the color in his eyes and because it was so soft to the touch. The last time she remembered him wearing it, she couldn’t keep her hands off his chest and the sweater had quickly found its way to the floor, along with the rest of their clothes.

 

Someone bumped into Scully on the staircase and she startled, realizing she’d been staring for longer than what could possibly be appropriate. Finally, she made her way over to Mulder and tried not to let him notice as she breathed deeply. He smelled just as good as he looked. Her whole body throbbed as the distance between them narrowed, subconsciously anticipating contact that wouldn’t happen.

 

“I’m sorry to come unannounced,” Mulder said.

 

“It’s fine,” she said.

 

“I hadn’t collected the mail until this morning and there was a letter from your mother. She doesn’t usually write…I thought it might be important. I didn’t open it.”

 

“Oh.” She took the envelope from Mulder and opened it, taking out the single page and scanning it quickly.

 

“Everything all right?”

 

“Fine,” she said, breathing out a sigh of relief as she checked inside the envelope again. “It’s fine. Matthew was in a cotillion. She wanted me to have a picture.” She pulled out the small photo of her nephew in a suit and tie and then turned it towards Mulder.

 

He squinted down at the photo and nodded. “Bill Jr. Jr.,” he said.

 

She snorted softly and returned the letter and picture to the envelope. “Thank you for bringing it all this way,” she said as she slid the envelope into the pocket of her white coat.

 

“I’m just glad it wasn’t serious.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He nodded once and scratched the back of his head. “Well, it was nice to see you. I’ll…let you get back to work.”

 

Her gut tightened and she felt the stirring of butterflies low in her abdomen. She didn’t want him to leave. “Wait,” she said. “You came all this way, can you…do you have time for coffee?”

 

Mulder studied the ground for a few moments before he glanced back up and gave a short nod. She turned her wrist up and checked her watch.

 

“Can you give me about ten minutes?” she asked. “I’ll meet you across the street. I just have to-”

 

“Take your time,” he interrupted. “I’ll go on ahead.”

 

Scully hurried back up the stairs to return the chart in her hand and to find the resident on duty in her ward. She told the fellow doctor she’d be taking a coffee break and to page her if she was needed. The stethoscope around her neck thumped against her chest as she rushed back down the stairs and across the street.

 

The coffee shop was busy despite being past the usual morning rush. Mulder was second in line at the register when Scully walked in and she had to weave her way around the line behind him to catch up. He had just stepped forward to order when she made her way to his side.

 

“Two coffees,” he said. “On one of them will you fill it only about two-thirds of the way?”

 

Scully wondered how many times Mulder had ordered coffee for her. She’d always used to request it black, because no one ever made it right, and she’d fix it herself once it was in her possession. Somehow, very early on in their partnership, he’d learned how she _really_ liked it and the first time he showed up with two to-go cups in his hand, he’d been quite eager to know if he’d gotten it right. He hadn’t failed in fifteen years.

 

“Looks like we might be able to grab the bar seats,” Mulder said, inclining his head towards the windows and snapping Scully out of her reverie. He made a move to place his hand on the small of her back, but she saw him pull his hand back and ball it into a fist before shoving both hands in his pockets.

 

Two young women were just finishing putting on their coats and sorting out shopping bags when Mulder and Scully swooped in to nab their seats. The row of barstools they were at looked out onto a small, empty courtyard. It was too cold that day to casually sit outside. Scully sat down facing the windows and Mulder leaned against the seat with his back to the counter, waiting for their order.

 

“George Hale!” the barista called.

 

Scully raised her brows and turned to watch Mulder pick up the coffee. She surreptitiously watched him open the lid on one and take out a canister of non-fat milk from the serving station, stirring as he poured. He ripped open two packets of sugar with his teeth and stirred both of those in as well before replacing the lid. Just how she liked it.

 

“Thank you, Mr. Hale,” Scully said, taking the coffee from him as he returned to the barstools. She angled herself towards him and he straddled the stool straight on, looking out the windows.

 

He shrugged. “Even if I have my identity back, I’d rather not advertise it.”

 

She removed the lid from her cup and blew lightly against the steam, waiting for it to cool a bit before she took a sip. She smiled into the cup. It was perfect. She put the lid back on and leaned her elbow on the counter, watching Mulder sip his coffee and stare out the window.

 

“How are you?” she asked.

 

He chuckled and put his coffee down, flicking the rim of the plastic lid with his thumbnail. He shook his head, still chuckling, and brought the cup back to his lips, his gaze returning to the windows.

 

“What?” she asked.

 

“I’m just not sure I know how to do casual chit chat with you after fifteen years.”

 

“Oh.” She averted her eyes, chastened. She had so much to say, but no words would come to her. The silence was awkward.

 

“How’s your patient doing?” he finally asked. “The boy. Treatments working?”

 

“I think so. We won’t see major improvement for awhile yet.”

 

“If he’s with you, he’s getting the best care possible.”

 

Her cheeks burned and her nose tingled. She lowered her head and swiped at her eye with the back of her hand. “Don’t say things like that to me, Mulder.”

 

“Why? Is that one of those things that makes you unhappy?”

 

“No. It doesn’t make me unhappy. I…Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea right now.”

 

“Scully,” he said, finally turning towards her and leaning close. “I can’t go back to pretending I don’t need you. I spent years doing that and at the very least, I had the work to distract me. Now, all I have is you and that’s all I need. Maybe it’s my fault that you don’t know that as far as I’m concerned, you’re everything, or maybe you do know that and you don’t want to be the center of my world. Is that why…”

 

Mulder paused and swallowed. Scully had been staring at his mouth as he spoke, but she chanced a glance up in the momentary break and saw the sheen in his eyes. A tear slipped from the corner of her own eye and rolled down the side of her face. He automatically raised his hand and his palm hovered close to her cheek. She tipped her head so that her face rested against his hand and his thumb brushed against the corner of her eye once before he lowered his arm. Her heart sank at the loss of his touch.

 

“I want to fix us,” he said. “But I don’t know how to do it if we’re so far apart. I don’t know what time is going to do for you, but I know what it’s doing to me. So, I need you to…I need you to come home or I need you to go.”

 

“I don’t know if I can do either right now.”

 

“And I don’t know if I can have you dangling in front of me, just out of reach, with no end in sight, but I’m not strong enough to cut the strings.”

 

If only it was as simple as that, Scully thought. He was right though, they couldn’t be fixed if they were so far apart. She had no intention of letting Mulder go and she never did, but they needed to talk before she could come home, and not in a crowded coffee shop.

 

“Mulder, I-” Her pager went off just then and she cursed quietly as she pulled it from her pocket.

 

“Duty calls,” he said, turning away from her again.

 

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” She slipped from the barstool, clutching her coffee cup.

 

“Mmhm.” He took a drink of his coffee.

 

“I don’t want to leave like this and I think you’re right. Will you be home on Friday?”

 

“Where else would I be?”

 

Scully knew the sarcasm was coming from a place of profound hurt, but it still stung a little. “I have a morning shift,” she said. “I’ll be out by early afternoon.”

 

“If you’re planning to pack your things, please let me know so I can be conspicuously absent.”

 

That stung even more and she tried to keep the anger that rose up in check and out of her voice. “I’ll come to the house Friday. If you choose not to be there, I suppose there’s nothing further to discuss.”

 

“Wait,” he said, turning quickly towards her as she walked away. He grabbed her arm lightly. “I’m sorry. I’ll be there. Of course I’ll be there.”

 

“I’ll see you Friday, Mulder.”

 

*****

 

Scully stepped up on the porch and stopped in front of the door. She didn’t know if she should knock or just walk in. She would feel a little foolish knocking on the door of her own house, but it didn’t really feel like hers at the moment. In the end, she decided that Mulder knew she was coming, had probably already heard the car, and there was nothing to be gained in being afraid of a door.

 

The door was unlocked when Scully tested it, not so unusual considering how far away they were from civilization, but it gave her a sense of relief to know she wasn’t locked out. Mulder was seated on the couch, she saw him as she walked in, his feet propped up on the coffee table and a stack of paper in his hand. He had his glasses on, which always made her a little weak in the knees. Between his teeth he held a pencil, even though he was scribbling on the paper in his hand with a red pen.

 

“Hey,” he grunted.

 

“Hey,” she answered, slowly removing her coat and shoes. “What’re you working on?”

 

He took the pencil out of his mouth. “Did a bit of writing. Now I’m doing a bit of editing.”

 

“Writing? I’ve been telling you to write a book for years.”

 

“I know. Thought maybe it was time to listen.”

 

Scully shuffled over to the couch and sat down sideways, facing him, with one knee bent and foot pressed to the cushion, the other on the floor. “You feel safe now?” she asked. “Safe enough to bring your experiences to light?”

 

“ _Our_ experiences, Scully. But, it’s not that kind of book.”

 

“No conspiracies? No shadow governments? No little green men?”

 

He shook his head at everything she said and then turned his head towards her, lowering his chin to look at her over the top of his glasses. “Grey,” he said. “Has it been that long?”

 

“Making sure you were paying attention.” She smiled a little. “So what’s it about?”

 

“It’s a love story,” he said, turning back to his papers.

 

She lifted her brows in surprise. When Mulder had talked about putting together a book, which he did often, it was always with the intent of calling attention to the need for investigation into conspiracies and demanding accountability. Never a novel. Certainly not a love story. He didn’t sound like he was joking either.

 

“You’re writing a romance novel?” she asked.

 

“No. But, it is a love story.”

 

“Do I get to read it?”

 

“Once it’s finished.”

 

Mulder moved his feet to the floor and leaned forward, dropping his papers onto the coffee table along with his pen and pencil. He removed his glasses and tossed them onto the pile before sitting back and squeezing the bridge of his nose between two fingers. Scully reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing very gently. He tensed momentarily and then took a deep breath and sighed.

 

“What happens now?” he asked.

 

“I feel like I should be asking you.”

 

“I think we both know I’m not exactly captain of this ship, Scully.”

 

“Okay. Then how about I talk and you listen.”

 

Mulder nodded softly into his chest. His gaze was somewhere on the floor and he pulled his upper lip down while pressing his teeth into his bottom lip. He looked gutted and Scully gave his shoulder another squeeze before moving her hand to his neck, threading her fingers into his hair and rubbing her thumb against the soft dip at the back of his ear.

 

“Mulder?” she whispered.

 

“I’m sorry, Scully,” he said, cutting his eyes to the side for just a moment and then back to the floor. “I look at you right now and I see a wall. I don’t know what you’re thinking and it scares me. I don’t remember a time when I couldn’t look at you and know what was behind your eyes. If this is how you’re going to say good bye, I’m going to need you to be less gentle because I can’t take it.”

 

Feeling the need to atone, and quickly, Scully pulled herself across the couch and straddled Mulder’s lap. She pressed her knees to his hips and held his face with both hands, tipping his head back so he would look at her. Once he’d made eye contact and held her gaze, she dropped her forehead to his so they were pressed together and she stroked his damp cheeks with her thumbs.

 

“Would it help if I told you my bag is in the car?” she asked, her voice a whisper against his lips. “Will that help you to listen to what I have to say?”

 

“Scully,” he breathed, taking her face between his hands and tilting his head to press his mouth to hers.

 

She broke the kiss quickly and shook her head against his. Their noses brushed together softly. She held his head still, but it didn’t stop him from moving his hands down her body, up her back, across her shoulders, pulling her closer.

 

“Listen,” she said. “Just listen to me first.”

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“I want to apologize to you for implying you’ve made me unhappy. It isn’t what I meant and I should have told you that two weeks ago.”

 

He moved his hands from sweeping across her back to rubbing the front of her thighs. It was very distracting, but she let him touch her. She could keep talking if he was quiet and she’d rather trade an idle mouth for restless hands. Still, she had to fight the urge to squirm against him.

 

“It wasn’t about the FBI,” she continued, “but their reappearance in our lives brought some things to the surface for me that I didn’t know how to handle.”

 

“Like what?” he asked.

 

“We spent years together, on the run, with only each other to depend on. You know I was afraid to let you out of my sight for very long. I’d only just got you back. I couldn’t lose you a _third_ time in two years. Not with what was already lost.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You don’t know, Mulder. You don’t know how afraid I really was.”

 

She was quiet for a few moments, grateful that he didn’t speak, but nuzzled her neck and kissed her throat. She tipped her head for him and pushed her fingers through his soft hair. It was always surprising to her how drowsy it made her feel when his mouth was on her neck. She pushed him away a little so she could focus, but he just pulled her collar down and kissed her shoulder.

 

“Once we settled here I could let some of that fear go,” she continued. “But I’ve felt so guilty since going back to work.”

 

He lifted his head. “Why?”

 

She shook her head and he squeezed her hips.

 

“Why?” he asked again.

 

“Because I could see what this isolation was doing to you,” she said, dropping her eyes and rubbing her hands against his pectorals. “I don’t like to see you caged like this. But, when I leave this gate, and I know you have nowhere else to go, it’s a lot easier to get through the day. I don’t want to feel like that.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“But, I can’t have an anxiety attack because you’ve left the house. Fucking FBI…”

 

“Scully?” Mulder reached up and took her hands from his chest, forcing her back just a little so he could look at her.

 

“While you were off working that case I couldn’t focus,” she said. “I couldn’t sit still. I felt like I didn’t know how to function. I didn’t just want you to walk away from the investigation, I _needed_ you to. I felt like my sanity depended on it. I couldn’t tell you that. And then it felt like you chose the case over me and I resented you for it, even though I had no right to ask you to in the first place.”

 

“You have every right to ask anything of me, Scully.”

 

“No, Mulder. I don’t have the right to keep you from helping someone who needs you. I don’t have the right to hold you back. Not simply because I’m worried about what might happen if I’m not there. I would have been furious with you if you’d done the same to me. I _was_ furious with you, every time you thought you had to protect me from the work.”

 

“Things are different now. I should’ve listened a little harder to what you were actually telling me when you said you didn’t want the darkness in our home.”

 

“But, then again, I didn’t give you much of a chance, did I? I pretty much proclaimed it was my way or the highway and neither of those options were going to make either of us happy. Let me take the blame for that because I’m telling you, it was wrong of me.”

 

Mulder opened his mouth and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed whatever was on his tongue to say. She knew how badly he wanted to take the blame for the hurt she’d inflicted on both of them, but he was trying not to for her sake. She studied his face for a few moments until she knew he wouldn’t argue with her and then she leaned closer and touched her lips to his. She pulled away and then rounded her back to lay her head on his shoulder, pressing her face to his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her completely.

 

“If we’d had this conversation before,” she said. “Would you have walked away?”

 

He crossed his arms over her back, hugging her a little tighter. “I think it just would have been harder,” he answered.

 

“I knew you’d made the right choice, even if it was against what I’d asked of you.” She sighed contentedly as Mulder pushed her hair back over her ear and stroked her cheek and neck. From where her hand rested on his chest, she could feel his heartbeat against her palm.

 

“There isn’t any part of me that wants to be away from you,” she said. “But I had to leave to make sure I could survive it. And I needed to know we’re not where we are simply out of fear of the alternative.”

 

“I hope you don’t think that anymore.”

 

“No. I had plenty of time to remember all the reasons we’re supposed to be together.”

 

“For example?”

 

“For example…”

 

She took in a deep breath, thinking. She wasn’t accustomed to sharing things so directly when it came to their relationship. Even saying ‘I love you’ was not really in their vocabulary. They spoke in a language of vague implications, but this was one of those rare times when being explicit was required.

 

“Do you want a few moments to put together a multi-media presentation?” Mulder asked.

 

Scully chuckled a little and reached up to his face. He caught her hand and pulled her palm to his mouth, placing a soft kiss to it before lacing their fingers together.

 

“The nights we spend sitting by the lake, watching the sun go down,” she started. “How you try to get me to play charades with you for some reason when we’ve had too much wine. When you read me some obscure folk tale or legend you find at the library that excites you. Setting the alarm fifteen minutes early so you can think you’re making me late to work by keeping me in bed. The fact that you would tell me to let you curse God so I could get some sleep.”

 

“Those sound like pretty good reasons to me.”

 

“They are.”

  
“Can I add a few?”

 

“Please.”

 

“The fact that you think I don’t know when you set your alarm fifteen minutes early because you _want_ me to keep you in bed just a little longer. Your sudden cravings for chocolate that usually result in some very serious cookie baking and some seriously chocolaty chocolate chip cookies. The summer nights when we take the blanket out to the back yard and gaze at the stars.”

 

Scully raised her head from Mulder’s shoulder and straightened in his lap. She leaned towards him and placed a few small, soft kisses on his lips while wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she whispered against his mouth. “I love you so much.”

 

“I know, Scully,” he whispered back. “You don’t have to tell me.”

 

“But, maybe you need to hear it right now.”

 

“Just promise me if you ever feel like leaving again, you’ll take me with you.”

 

“I promise.”

 

The End


End file.
